


No One Is Going To Hurt You

by viktorkrumn



Series: ~ harry potter drabbles ~ [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Don't copy to another site, Gen, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, it's very short, sorry in advance i've been told that reading this may lead to tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2020-10-04 17:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20474465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viktorkrumn/pseuds/viktorkrumn
Summary: Inspired by one of @harryjamesheadcanons's posts on tumblr."Imagine twelve year old Harry not even knowing how awful his childhood with Dursleys had been until he gets to the Burrow. [...] Imagine Fred chasing after Harry in the yard, playfighting, but Harry actually begins to run for real fear of being hurt."





	No One Is Going To Hurt You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of @harryjamesheadcanons's posts on tumblr.  
"Imagine twelve year old Harry not even knowing how awful his childhood with Dursleys had been until he gets to the Burrow. [...] Imagine Fred chasing after Harry in the yard, playfighting, but Harry actually begins to run for real fear of being hurt."

**Summer of 1992**

Fred ran. Faster, faster, faster. Out of the corner of his eye he could see George and Ron, pushing each other around, laughing, but Fred was only concentrated on the bony boy running ahead of him. He couldn’t see Harry’s face, but the latter kept pushing forward, speeding up, and Fred was already out of breath. _Damn, the kid is fast!_ Fred couldn’t remember how exactly it had come to this. A few minutes ago - or was it hours? - they were playing Quidditch in the Weasleys’ back yard, but the game turned into a mad mess of people doing whatever they wanted and making up games with silly rules. He passed by Ginny, who was trying to get the chickens to listen to her in order to prove a point -_“Come on, Gin, you can’t seriously think they can understand you!” “They can and they will!”_ \- but kept moving. He was finally gaining on Harry; a few more seconds– he was almost there– “Gotcha!”

As Fred tackled Harry and started tickling him, he saw that the younger boy was laughing - but he had tears on his face. “Hey, Harry, what’s wrong?” Fred pulled back from the tickling but then reached out a hand, and although Harry flinched away at first, he let it settle on his shoulder.

“I just– I thought you might hurt me.” Harry suddenly seemed so small, so vulnerable, that Fred launched himself forward and hugged him.

“Why would I hurt you?” Fred asked as he pulled back. They were at the front of the house now, and no one else was there.

“I don’t know… it’s just, my cousin– he would.”

“He would chase you and **_hurt_** you?” It was obvious - even to Harry - that this seemed unthinkable to Fred. “Look, mate, I don’t know my cousins very well, but that doesn’t sound very warm and fuzzy.”

Harry laughed a bit shakily. “You guys are so nice and kind and fun and I love this place so much–” He stopped suddenly. “I’m not used to this.”

“What was that? We can’t have a heart-to-heart conversation if I can’t hear you, buddy.”

“I’m not used to this. At home I have to clean or cook or help with the chores or eat the food that didn’t turn out as well or pretend to not exist, and here you guys are running around and playing and your parents are so nice and they talk to me…”

Fred smiled a smile that was too sad and understanding for a boy of fourteen. “It’s alright. Don’t worry. Everybody here loves you and no one is going to hurt you.”

“If I don’t see a massive tickle fight when I come over, you both have to race me to the big tree!” The voice seemed to travel over the rood of the Burrow and belonged - surprisingly enough - to Arthur Weasley.

“You’re on!” Was the mundane reply that came from Fred Weasley, but he flashed Harry a smile that said _‘I meant what I just said.’_

***

**Summer of 1998**

A young man tries not to remember how kind a friend was six years ago. He tries not to remember a hug, a smile, and a promise.

_It’s alright._

He tries to shake off the memories of years of chores, of loneliness, of crying himself to sleep.

_Don’t worry._

He stands in silence and hopes that tonight, he doesn’t dream about the First Good Summer. That magical games and tasty food don’t haunt him.

_Everybody here loves you…_

I love you too, Fred. I love all of you.

_…and no one is going to hurt you._

But they hurt you, Fred. And you’re not here anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you didn't cry too much. Kudos and comments warm my heart <3 Find me at @viktorkrumn on tumblr.


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